Fool Me Once
by Jackfan
Summary: Jack dreams, post 2.01 The Enemy Walks In. FINAL
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

****Author's Note****

Summary:  Jack dreams, post 2.01, The Enemy Walks In.  Film noir style.

Rating: G

Disclaimers:  All characters (except Charlie) are the property of JJ and Bad Robot

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Prologue

Jack Bristow shifted restlessly in bed.  In his large hands sat a well-thumbed detective novel, one of his favorites, but even that was unable to soothe him this evening.  That lying, deceitful b*tch.  How dare she walk back into his life as if nothing had happened?  He drained the glass of scotch by his bed and snapped off the bedside lamp.  When it finally came, his sleep was fitful.

Chapter 1

The door swung open to a dingy office on the wrong side of town. "Hey, JD, me and some of the guys is headin' down to Ruby's.  Care to join us?"

JD looked up sardonically from his desk.  Freddy ran a bail bond operation several doors down from his.  Not too particular about what he took as collateral. Had never yet been observed picking up a bar tab.  "Think I'll pass, thanks," he replied dryly.  

"Whassamatter, Romeo?  Got a hot date?" Freddy gibed back, grinning at his own wit.  JD's aversion to dames was well known.  His smile faded as he received a menacing glare.  "Suit yerself," he muttered, backing out of the office and closing the door with slightly more force than necessary.

JD grimaced as he watched the glass rattle in the door.

**wo sirB .D .J**

**rotagitsevnI et virP**

J. D. Bristow, Private Investigator read the worn black stencil lettering.  JD to his associates.  Jonathan to his mother.  And Jack to….Jack to no one.  He pulled the flask out of his lower right hand drawer, took a long swallow, and swiveled in his chair.  Putting his feet up on the windowsill, he contemplated the darkening skyline of the city below him.  Around him the office grew dark, and outside stars struggled to pierce the encroaching gloom. That lying b*tch was out there somewhere.  Strange how on nights like these, he could almost feel the pull again.

_Snick_.  He heard behind him the soft sound of the well-oiled door open and shut quietly.  Outwardly he showed no signs of hearing, with the exception of a slight tensing as his hand stealthily reached for his revolver.  His clients were a disreputable group.  Night dwellers, they only crawled out of their holes in the dark.  They knew where to find him, and when.  So did his enemies.

He heard the scratch of a match, and the faint glow of the flame briefly lit up his office before it was snuffed out.  The distinctive odor of an exotic brand of cigarette filled the room.  An odor that JD hadn't smelled for 20 years.  His jaw clenched.

"Get. Out."  He spoke without turning around, his voice implacable.

A rustle as the intruder came nearer.  "Is that any way to greet an old…friend, Jack?" came the sultry voice.  Jack.  There it was.  Only one person had ever called him Jack. He slowly spun around in his chair, revolver in hand, but could only see the tip of the cigarette in the darkness, and the lazy tendrils of smoke curling toward the ceiling.

"Jack's dead," he said without inflection.  "You buried him 20 years ago."

Silence as the voice at the end of the cigarette considered gravely.  "No.  I wounded him.  You buried him."

JD made an impatient gesture.  He wasn't interested in word games.  "What the hell do you want?"  What more could she take, he wondered grimly.

"I need help," replied the voice in a silky tone. "I need….you."

"Me?  Help *you*?  You've got to be kidding."

"I'll make it worth your while."

"I don't want your stinking cash.  Get out."

"I have something you want."

"I doubt it."  Unbidden, thoughts of the voluptuous body attached to the cigarette came to mind.  Ruthlessly he suppressed them.

"Do you believe in redemption, Jack?"

A harsh laugh forced its way out of his throat.  "I used to believe in a lot of things. Love.  Friendship.  Maybe even redemption, once.  But not anymore." 

"I have proof.  Proof that you were framed," came the voice.  The voice was confident now.

JD shrugged indifferently.  "Ancient history."

"Framed by Charlie."

The silence in the room was total.  

"Charlie," he finally repeated, trying to keep his voice even.  His partner.  Ex-partner.  

"He lied to me, Jack."  The voice faltered.  "If only I had known…,"

"If only you had known, what?" he parried back in a steely voice.

"I never would have left you," said Irina.


	2. Chapter 2

The words, now spoken, hung in the shadows between them. Involuntarily JD raised his hand, vainly trying to ward off the images they evoked. He had been just a flatfoot back then, madly in love with her. Engaged to be married. His partner Charlie, best friend and confidant, to serve as best man. How pathetically naïve he had been.  
  
"What could Charlie have possibly told you," he demanded through gritted teeth, "that would have caused you to leave me?"  
  
An audible sniff punctured the darkness. "A-after they took you away to prison, h-he told me that you had always been a dirty cop. That he had tried his best to stop you, but that you needed the money. Th-that you were two-timing me and had a mistress to support."  
  
"Those were lies!" JD exploded. "I never...I didn't..." With difficulty he brought himself back under control. "I was innocent," he said tightly. Light from a passing automobile played across the office, futilely trying to penetrate the anguish of those memories.  
  
"I know that now. He lied to us both, Jack. You went to prison and ended up with this." Her gaze swept across the office, shabby even in outline. "He ended up as District Attorney."  
  
"You promised to be faithful, to wait for me...,"  
  
"Forever and a day, Jack. Yes, I know. But I felt so lost and confused, like I never really knew you...," her breath hitched. "And so I wrote that awful letter....,"  
  
In the slammer for 2-5, time off for good behavior, and week 3 he had received her letter. A 'Dear John' letter. Except that it started 'Dear Jack'. He could still remember the numbing despair as if it were yesterday. And then, in week 20...in week 20 he had opened an envelope to find a newspaper clipping inside. Announcing her engagement to Charlie.  
  
The cigarette moved closer and JD could now make out her form in the gloom as she perched on the edge of his desk. Not that he needed to see her to remember. Even with his eyes closed, he could picture the brunette hair falling in waves, the bedroom eyes, the sensuous lips, the legs that stretched up to her neck. Her hand reached out and began to trace small circles on his.  
  
"I loved you so much," she said caressingly. "It was never the same with Charlie. Sure, he took care of me," she admitted, expensive jewelry twinkling in the reflection from the streetlamps, "but it was always you I loved."  
  
JD looked down at his hand, dazed, as the touch of her fingers burned its way through his body.   
  
"Why didn't you ever marry, Jack?" she asked gently.  
  
"I...I..." He watched her fingers circle, trying to make sense of the pattern.  
  
"You loved me too, didn't you?" she said forlornly. "Even after what happened."  
  
Circles...his brow cleared.  
  
"Say you'll forgive me," she whispered seductively as she leant closer still, so close that he could almost...could almost...with a superhuman effort JD pulled back.  
  
"There'll be plenty of time for that later, sugar," he said laconically. "Have you shared this revelation with Charlie?"  
  
"I can't. I'm afraid, Jack," she began to weep softly. "Afraid he knows what I've found out. Afraid he'll frame me too. I need someone I can trust. You, Jack."   
  
JD handed her his handkerchief and watched as she gently dabbed her eyes. She had never liked it when her mascara ran. "And what was it, exactly, that you needed me to do?" he prodded.  
  
"He keeps the files in his office safe. The proof that you need. The protection that I need."  
  
"You want me to pull a job on the DA's office?" JD asked in disbelief.  
  
"There's an office party tomorrow night at Benji's. The coast will be clear. Promise me you'll do it, Jack," she begged. "Please," she whispered, crumpling the handkerchief in her hand. "For us."  
  
"Alright, sweetheart. For us."  
  
"I'll be so...grateful," she breathed suggestively. "Goodnight, Jack." She leant forward and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. "Remember, forever and a day."  
  
"Don't worry," came the response. "I won't forget."   
  
He watched as she left the office, then swung his chair around again to stare out the window, brooding. It had, he noticed, started to rain. 


	3. Chapter 3

JD stood under the wash of the street lamp, hat pulled low over his head, the collar of his raincoat turned up.  The steady drizzle over the past 24 hours appeared to have washed all color from the surrounding office buildings, leaving them a murky gray in the twilight.  Moodily he looked upwards and noted that the 5th floor of the building opposite was dark.  

Behind him he heard the _click-clack_ of her heels on the rain-slicked pavement, impatiently making their way towards him.  He turned unhurriedly.

"Jack?" she asked uncertainly.  "Why did you call?  We shouldn't be seen together in public."  She looked quickly up and down the street.  Cars sped by on the wet asphalt, oblivious to the two figures huddled together like ghosts in the night.

JD studied her silently for a moment.  "I've been thinking," he began, reaching out to take her hand in his.  "Why don't we just…forget about this?  We could leave all this behind, make a new start in another city.  Just you and me, baby," he said caressingly.

Irina snatched back her hand in irritation.  "You can't be serious," she snapped.  Then, with an apologetic look, hastily amended, "He'd find us, Jack.  He'd find us anywhere.  We need proof."  She swallowed.  "Jack, you don't know how much I want to be with you again."  She leaned forward, her body pressing against his, her perfume enveloping them both.  "Forever and a day," she breathed, her lips a millimeter from his.

Of its own volition, JD's hand snaked around her head and pulled her close as his lips moved to meet hers.  Hungrily he devoured her, pouring 20 years of passion, frustration, need, and longing into his kiss.  When he finally released her, eyes unreadable, she tottered backwards, her fingers unconsciously tracing her swollen lips.

"So long, sweetheart."

"See you soon, Jack," she said breathlessly.

JD turned and, without another word, crossed the street.  She waited and watched until he was swallowed by the gloom, then swiftly made her way to a phone booth.

**

JD paused outside the door to the DA's office and took a deep breath.  Reaching into his pocket, he removed several small tools.  His time in the joint had not been without some side benefits, he thought to himself mirthlessly.  Swiftly he picked the lock and walked in through the door, hesitating in the darkness.  Switching on his flashlight he rapidly scanned the interior, searching.

Yes, he had found it.

**

She picked up the phone.  "Chicago 9129, please."  Her foot tapped impatiently.

"Benji's."

"Could I speak to Charlie Mackinson, please?"  She waited several moments, the noise from the bar filtering through the earpiece.

"Mackinson."

"Charlie?" she said coquettishly.  "Hello, darling.  Do you know where I am?"

"Sweetheart?" came the puzzled response.

"I'm on your desk, tiger.  Wearing my birthday suit…and your handcuffs.  But I'll only be here for a couple of minutes.  So…do hurry and *come* over," she purred seductively.  Her eyes were hard as she gazed out the dirt-streaked glass onto the street. 

After a short, stunned silence, she heard with satisfaction, "Don't. go. anywhere.  I'll be right there."

**

She waited in the silent shadows of the alley.  The rain had stopped, and mist was slowly rising from the street, lying like a blanket over the sleeping city.  Suddenly the quiet was shattered by the roar of a gunshot, its noise reverberating between the walls of the buildings.  She watched with approval as a foot patrol rounded the corner on the run and sprinted into the building's entrance, and sirens filled the air.


	4. Chapter 4

_JD paused outside the door to the DA's office and took a deep breath.  Reaching into his pocket, he removed several small tools.  His time in the joint had not been without some side benefits, he thought to himself mirthlessly.  Swiftly he picked the lock and walked in through the door, hesitating in the darkness.  Switching on his flashlight he rapidly scanned the interior, searching._

_Yes, he had found it._  Skulking under the desk was the handkerchief he had leant her the prior day.  Monogrammed "JDB".  With a sigh, he switched off the flashlight and allowed the gloom to envelope him.  The large leather chair behind the desk groaned softly as he sat down and leant backwards, pondering.  How, he wondered, was she going to pull this off?

Several minutes later, he had his answer.  "Are you in there, sweetheart?" came Charlie's voice through the door as he fumbled with the keys.  As JD watched, the door swung open and Charlie stepped in, switching on the light.  The overhead fluorescent fixture crackled in hesitation, then bathed the room in a harsh, unnatural glow.

"Jack?" Charlie asked in confusion, his eyes drawn to the man in the chair.  JD watched as comprehension dawned and Charlie swiftly drew his revolver.  "Where the hell's my wife, Bristow?" he spat in fury.

"Hello, Charlie," replied JD blandly.  He eyed the revolver in Charlie's hand.  "Might as well put that thing down."

"Like hell.  I said, where's. my. wife?"

"She sent me with a message.  She's tired of you, and wants out," said JD matter-of-factly.

Charlie's face reddened.  "What did you say?"  His hand squeezed tighter on the revolver.

"She sent me here to murder you."

"She told you to murder me?" Charlie asked, shaken.

"Not exactly.  But that would have been the end result."  JD looked at Charlie with a hint of compassion in his eyes.  "Put that damned thing down, Charlie."

"No!" Charlie said through gritted teeth, trying to maintain control.  

"Charlie," said JD pityingly.  "She's probably filled it with blanks, just to make sure."

Charlie stared at him in disbelief.

JD opened his arms wide, presenting a clean target.  "Go ahead, try to shoot me.  If I'm wrong you can claim it was self-defense."  JD opened his jacket so that Charlie could see his holstered gun.  "And mine's loaded."

Charlie slowly raised the gun, aiming at JD's chest with trembling hands.  He locked gazes with JD for a long moment, then dropped the gun with a shudder.  "I can't, Jack.  Not you," he said, not meeting JD's eyes.  With an abrupt motion he raised the gun toward the ceiling and pulled the trigger. A roar echoed through the room.  Both men looked up.  The ceiling was unmarked.

JD watched Charlie stagger backwards into a chair and put his head into his hands.  "Join the club," said JD cynically.

**

_She waited in the silent shadows of the alley.  The rain had stopped, and mist was slowly rising from the street, lying like a blanket over the sleeping city.  Suddenly the quiet was shattered by the roar of a gunshot, its noise reverberating between the walls of the buildings.  She watched with satisfaction as a foot patrol rounded the corner on the run and sprinted into the building's entrance, and sirens filled the air._


	5. Chapter 5

She was halfway through the bottle of champagne when a knock sounded on the door to their apartment. *Her* apartment, she irritably amended, wondering who could be bothering her at this time of night. She caught herself quickly. Of course, it must be the police, coming to tell her about Charlie. Swiftly she composed her features and slowly opened the door.  
  
"Hello, sugar," said JD stepping briskly into the room. "Charlie sends his regards. He wanted you to have this."   
  
Stunned, she took the envelope he shoved into her hands.  
  
"His life insurance policy. And his marriage license."   
  
She looked inside. All she saw were ashes.  
  
"And he wants you gone in one hour."  
  
Blood drained from her face and, wheeling, she stumbled blindly out of the room. JD casually scanned the apartment and, finding the champagne, poured himself a glass.  
  
**  
  
When he found her, she was bent over the balcony railing, staring out at empty streets and dreamless houses. Sullen and still, she refused to see him in the dark, and he turned on every lamp until the room shone bright behind her. Until the melancholy glow lit her like an angel on the road to hell. She was holding one fist over the edge, tilting it slowly, and he waited several seconds more before she turned to him at last. Her smile was painful, her eyes clear, and he watched her fingers loosen as the ashes fell.  
  
Pensively he walked up to stand beside her, his gaze outwards. They stood there silently for a time, neither moved to speak.  
  
"How did you know?" she asked at last.  
  
JD shrugged wearily. "Let's say I've become a little more cautious over time. Things that are too good to be true...generally aren't."   
  
She nodded and turned back towards the street, brooding.  
  
Several long moments passed.  
  
"When did you decide you were engaged to the wrong partner?" JD finally asked, his voice even.  
  
She licked her lips, but did not respond.  
  
"It *was* you who framed me, wasn't it? Charlie and I compared notes. You told him that you had always known I was dirty, that you were praying I wouldn't get caught. It's why Charlie gave up on me."  
  
"Jack, I - ,"  
  
"And then, last week," continued JD as if he hadn't heard her interjection, "Charlie's office collared a small-time hood. Who offered up information on a cop who had been framed 20 years ago. When Charlie told you, you were afraid he'd eventually put two and two together."  
  
She opened her mouth in reflex, to spin a story, to misdirect, to seduce him with her words. She had been in worse jams than this. Men were so easy to -   
  
"Don't," came the implacable voice next to her.   
  
Her head snapped around, and she looked into a face that she suddenly realized she didn't know. JD. Not Jack. "You've changed," she said, shoulders slumping in defeat.  
  
"Yes."  
  
She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I did love you, you know," she began in a low voice, not meeting his eyes. "But you wanted to stay a flatfoot forever. You were so damn dedicated to your job. Charlie....Charlie had ambitions. He understood about getting ahead, about having the good things in life."   
  
"I loved you," said JD softly. "Why wasn't that enough?"  
  
Her face contorted in bitterness. "You fool. You never understood. Love isn't enough, can't be enough for dames like me. Look at me," she swept a hand mockingly across her silk dress, her hand made shoes, her expensive jewelry. "Can you imagine me poor? Waiting at home with your dinner every night? Squalling brats at my feet?"  
  
"No," said JD with startled comprehension, finally seeing her clearly. "No, I can't."  
  
He looked down at her face in the moonlight, the face that had filled his dreams for 20 years. He felt, he recognized with surprise, nothing. Not passion, not hate. Nothing. No, that wasn't right. He felt...pity.  
  
"Where will you go?" he asked as she turned away.   
  
"I don't know," she said tiredly, pulling on her coat and picking up her purse. "New York, maybe. I've probably worn out my welcome in this town."  
  
"I could call you a cab."  
  
"No."  
  
Wordlessly they walked together to the door of the apartment. She reached up and brushed his cheek with her lips. "Goodbye, Jack."  
  
"Goodbye, Irina," he whispered, as the door shut irrevocably behind her. 


	6. Epilogue

Jack Bristow woke the next morning relaxed and rested. The tension that had plagued him since learning of Irina's return had dissipated. He slid open the bedside drawer and carefully pulled out a photograph, studying it closely, looking for a clue in that smiling face of the devastation that she would later wreak in his life. He would know this time if she lied to him. When she lied to him.  
  
"Fool me once," he whispered, then placed the photograph back in the drawer, sliding it closed with satisfaction.  
  
***fin***  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
1. This was a challenge fic; the paragraph:  
  
When he found her, she was bent over the balcony railing, staring out at empty streets and dreamless houses. Sullen and still, she refused to see him in the dark, and he turned on every lamp until the room shone bright behind her. Until the melancholy glow lit her like an angel on the road to hell. She was holding one fist over the edge, tilting it slowly, and he waited several seconds more before she turned to him at last. Her smile was painful, her eyes clear, and he watched her fingers loosen as the ashes fell.  
  
is not mine, but rather a required element written by Blackdawn. Other elements included stars, flame, and a dream or flashback.  
  
2. In case the title phrase is not familiar, the full saying is "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." 


End file.
